


Heartbreak and Suffering

by bellatemple



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen, Post-Chosen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-01-19
Updated: 2006-01-19
Packaged: 2017-10-26 22:53:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/288785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellatemple/pseuds/bellatemple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mma. Ramotswe is hired to investigate a young American man who's set up a new local girls' school.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heartbreak and Suffering

The woman standing in the doorway of the No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency at nine on Tuesday was very thin. She was also very white and very young. She wore expensive clothing in muted colors, and though she was polite, she did not follow the traditional ways.

In short, she was the polar opposite of Precious Ramotswe.

"Ms. Ramotswe," said the woman. "I need your help."

Mma Ramotswe nodded. "Tell me what you need, and I will tell you if I can help you."

The woman took a deep breath and clasped her hands. "I'm concerned about a friend of mine. . . ."

* * *

Xander placed his hands on his lower back and slowly straightened, reveling in the sensation of his spine popping. He tilted his head as he stretched, examining the door in front of him for a long moment before brushing his hands against his pants.

"Now that is a well hung door."

Phenyo shook her head with an annoyed puff of air. "Yes, rra." She examined the carefully trimmed nails on her right hand. "A very nice door."

"Hey." Xander grinned down at her. "Don't knock the door. Bein' my helper got you out of training for the day."

Phenyo frowned. Her English was really very good, but she didn't grasp the subtleties of American slang. "If I don't knock on it, how will they know to let me in?"

Xander shook his head. "Right. Of course. Knock all you like. But respect the door."

Phenyo rolled her eyes in exactly the same way that the teenagers did on TV when they were humoring their parents. "Of course, rra. It's a very nice door."

"Damn right." Xander stepped back, offering his hand to pull the slayer to her feet. "Come on. Let's get lunch started before the others get back."

  
* * *

Mma Ramotswe touched the American woman's hand. "I know of your friend. He is well known in Gabarone for his helpful work and his eyepatch. But, tell me," Mma Ramotswe took a sip of her bush tea. "Why don't you go speak to your friend? Why do you want to hire me, someone you do not know, to investigate him?"

The American woman shook her head. "He won't tell me the truth. He's always talking about his girls--his students, but never about himself. I have to know what's really going on here."

Mma Ramotswe nodded. "I will help you."

* * *

Xander leaned back against the wall of the Mud Hut, sipping his coke and watching the dust rise and fall under the hooves of his neighbor's cattle. Iniko, his guide and fellow watcher, sat next to him, shuffling cards and drinking beer. The midday heat was fading into the afternoon, but neither man wanted to return to the task of training and caring for eleven young slayers.

"I still do not understand, Xander." Iniko set down his beer.

Xander smiled. "Simple. Iniko. Inigo. Ogoni. Montoya. It's practically the same."

Iniko shook his head. "But I am not Spanish. And I have never seen your movie."

The neighbor called out to them. Xander sipped his coke. "What's he saying?"

"He is offering you his cattle. He would like you to take one of his many daughters as his bride."

Xander choked. "Really?"

Iniko smiled and shook his head. "No. He is greeting you. As he does every day. He asks how the girls are doing in their lessons. I will tell him that you hate him, and the girls are working as slaves to your evil, American whims. As I do every day."

Xander nodded. "It's good to have a routine."

* * *

The house where the American had his school was large and very close to the home of Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni, Mma Ramotswe's fiancé. Mma Ramotswe parked her tiny white van behind Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni's house and set to work tending his yard. From here she could observe the American's school and no one would know she was investigating him.

Mma Ramotswe noted the American's fancy car. She noted his slouch against the wall of the house, and the relaxed way he spoke to his Nigerian friend. She noted that his yard looked very tidy. She could not see anything strange.

  
* * *

Xander rubbed his right temple and closed his eye. Phenyo and Mmaabo were fighting. It wasn't even the good kind of fighting where they got some exercise and practiced their battle skills. They were yelling at each other, and had been since lunch.

They were arguing in Setswana, but Xander already knew what they were arguing about. It hadn't changed the last three times he'd called Iniko in to translate.

Mmaabo was an AIDS orphan. Xander and Iniko took all the slayers to the clinic once a month to get tested, so they all knew she was free of the disease. But Phenyo was terrified that Mmaabo would somehow infect everyone. Xander had tried to explain to her how it was transmitted, and that as far as the council could tell, being a slayer meant having a natural resistence to HIV, but Phenyo never listened.

Phenyo never listened to much that anyone told her.

"Enough!" Xander stepped between the two slayers, trusting them not to take their anger out on an innocent bystander. "If you two want to fight, then I want you to get something useful out of it. Go outside and beat each other up like normal slayers."

* * *

Mma Ramotswe called the American woman to tell her what she had seen at the school. She told the woman about her friend's relaxed pose, his tidy yard, and his expensive car.

The woman got upset. "I knew it! He never cared about cars! There's something wrong with him."

"Cars are important to men in Africa," Mma Ramotswe told her. "There are men who will let themselves go hungry so that they can buy an expensive car. Your friend is just trying to blend in."

"He's not supposed to blend in," the woman said quietly. "He's supposed to stand out."

* * *

Xander and Iniko stood side by side in the back yard of the Mud Hut, watching Phenyo and Mmaabo spar under the shade netting. The afternoon was beginning to cool as the sun went down, but both girls were starting to sweat. The nine other slayers at the school were scattered along the edges. All of them were shouting suggestions to the combatants.

"Aim for the knee!" cried Ontibile, the youngest of the slayers. She always shouted the same advice. She had been attacked by a witch doctor when she was called, and had kicked him in the knee and gotten away.

"Bite her!" shouted Zuna. Her parents had let her watch American boxing. "Bite her in the ear!"

"You're dropping your shoulder," said Iniko. He was drowned out by the girls.

Anele, the next youngest after Ontibile, jumped up to her feet. "Get her, Phenyo! Get her, get her!" Xander put his hand on her shoulder and pushed her back down.

Happy, the quietest of the group, whispered something in Setswana. Xander glanced at Iniko, who followed Happy's gaze. Xander turned.

A heavy woman dressed in traditional fabrics was making her way towards them from the next house over.

* * *

As Mma Ramotswe hung up the phone with the American woman, she understood. She was not helping her client with her investigation. And she had promised to help her client. She hurried out into the yard and across to where the American man was teaching his students self-defense.

"Mr. Harris!" she called. "I am Mma Ramotswe. I am a detective, and I have something very important to tell you."

Mr. Harris shook Mma Ramotswe's hand in the proper traditional way, with his left hand on her forearm. "Call me Xander. It's nice to meet you. Tell me what's going on."

* * *

Xander entered the No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency slowly, not sure what to expect. Mma Ramotswe hadn't told him much about her client, or why her client had hired her to investigate him, but she had promised that if he came with her to her agency, he would find out. He'd suspected that one of the slayer's parents had grown suspicious of the school and decided to get outside assistance. Mma Ramotswe had already very politely told him that she didn't approve of young women learning to fight, but that she was glad he was looking out for the African youth. She had told him at length about all of the different things that the African youth were doing today that she didn't approve of, but that she knew times were changing and that Africa would have to change with them, and eventually Xander had tuned her out completely. It had been a long drive to the agency in Mma Ramotswe's tiny white van.

He was very surprised when, shortly after they arrived, Dawn came into the agency looking worried.

"I came as fast as I--" She froze, staring at him. "Xander."

Xander smiled. "Dawnie. Why are you investigating me?"

  
* * *

Mma Ramotswe went quickly to her office when the American woman arrived, to give the friends the privacy they would need to talk. She didn't understand Americans and their ways. If they had been Batswana, they would have already talked, and there would have been no need for investigation. Batswanas needed investigation for crimes and for missing people. They did not need investigation for matters of the heart.

Mma Ramotswe sat very close to the door. She would keep her client's confidentiality; that was very important. But, she thought, it would not hurt her to hear two friends become reacquainted.

* * *

Xander shook his head. "I don't understand, Dawn. What are you doing here?"

"I was worried about you." Dawn stared at the floor. "You've been in Africa for so long. You never talk about yourself on the phone. You never talk about _her_."

"So you had me investigated?"

"I thought you might be depressed." Dawn's gaze shifted to the door. "Or in trouble, or . . . . It's so dangerous here. There are wars, and apartheid, and AIDS and starving children. . . ."

Xander nodded slowly. "That's true . . . about _Africa_ . . . but you know what I found out? Africa's really, really big. Botswana isn't like that. Sure, there are problems, and AIDS is a big one of them." He put an arm over her shoulder. "Africa isn't all heartbreak and suffering. There are a lot of really good things about it, too. Everyone here is so connected. Iniko calls me his brother, and he means it. Everyone takes care of each other, even the weird American strangers."

Dawn leaned against him. "I worry."

"I know." Xander pulled her closer to him. "Stay awhile, okay? Buffy can handle Rome. I want you to see what Africa's really like."

Dawn gave him a small smile. "Okay."

* * *

Mma Ramotswe smiled. She was very satisfied with how this investigation had turned out, and in such a very short time. She would not ask the woman for payment since she had not had to do very much investigation. Tomorrow she would call on them and she would see how well they were getting along. They would have bush tea at lunch time, and she would tell the woman about Africa. She would teach her the traditional greeting and handshake, and the woman would fall in love with Africa just as she had fallen in love with the American man.


End file.
